


Trampoline

by Achrya



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dorks, Language, M/M, cute and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's mom asks him to take his younger sister to her gymnastics lessons and he finds himself smitten with a certain freckled face gymnast. His sister isn't amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trampoline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YuaShizuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuaShizuka/gifts).



> For the JeanMarco Gift Exchange.  
> Prompt: Jean's a grump who was forced to bring kid sis to gymnastics but after seeing Marco he starts to volunteer to bring his sister just to see Marco. This one for a while until Jean's sister catches on and tells Marco about Jean. And Jean gets all flustered because how do you talk to cutes. I think/hope I hit everything.

“Jean?” He picked his head up from his pillow to squint at his mother. She was wearing her scrubs and had her hair was twisted up and pinned back, a sign she was about to leave for work. She frowned at him. “Still in bed?” 

“It’s summer.” He grumbled as he rolled over.

A very boring, very hot summer. When school had let out for the summer he’d been looking forward to weeks of sitting around doing nothing and sleeping in until noon every day but three weeks in and he was kind of tired of it. 

All of his friends were working or taking trips or lived far enough away that going to see them would have involved a serious show of effort which would have been contrary to his ‘not doing anything at all’ edict for the summer.

“It’s almost noon.” She frowned and Jean could already hear the lecture she was gearing up for. Then she sighed and shook her head. “I’ve been called in early so I need you to take Charlotte to her gymnastics class.” 

Jean blinked. “Charlotte’s in gymnastics? Since when?”

“Twice a week for the past four years?”

“Really? I guess that explains why Saturday’s are always so quiet.” 

His mother didn’t look like she thought he was funny, which he was. She was frowning again and her arms were crossed over her chest but, more than looking angry, she just looked tired. It was just the three of them and he knew she worked hard along with trying to do the ‘mom’ thing at all of their games, recitals, and plays. 

“I’ll take her.” Jean said, biting back a yawn. He pushed himself up so he was sitting on the edge of his bed and raked a hand through his hair. “What time?” 

“It starts at 2 so you’ll need to leave before 1:30. Charlotte knows where to go.” Her expression relaxed into a smile. “Thanks Jean.” 

\---

“You can just drop me at the curb.” Charlotte said when they turned into the parking lot of the large gym she took her classes at. She was all but pressed against the door, eyes scanning the busy parking lot anxiously. 

“I don’t need to take you in and wait with you?” He guided the car up to the sidewalk in front of the building as he spoke. 

People, mostly girls of varying ages and women who looked like their mothers, were crossing the lot and walking into the building. He saw a few glance curiously in their direction. 

“Mom does but...no.” She turned and made a face at him. “You’ll just try to embarrass me.” 

He gasped in mock offense. “Charlotte! Would I do that?”

Her bland expression said that yes, he would do that, but she was saved from having to say anything more by someone calling her name. They both looked towards the building to find a man with short dark hair and a wide smile waving at them. He was close enough that Jean could see a dusting of freckles, standing out across darkly tanned skin, over his nose and cheeks. His tank top showed off thick arms and wide shoulders. 

“Who is that?” 

“Marco.” Charlotte chirped. She reached into the back and grabbed her duffle bag. “He’s in the advanced classes but he and Mikasa help Mr. Levi out on the weekends and stuff. They’d both super good, like competitions and stuff.” 

The guy, Marco, was practically bouncing towards them, looking alarmingly jubilant. Jean didn’t think he had ever been that happy about anything in his entire life but, instead of being annoyed about someone so perky headed his way, he found himself staring, mouth suddenly dry. 

“Anyway I’m done at 4, okay?” She opened the door and hopped out. “Don’t be late, please.” 

She glared at him menacingly, or as close as she could get to it, then shut the door and walked away. Charlotte reached Marco and was graced with a smile and a pat to the shoulder. They both looked his way, his sister rolling her eyes dramatically and Marco merely looking curious, then Charlotte nodded and jogged inside, ponytail bouncing behind her. 

Marco moved to greet a woman who was pulling two identical girls with matching scowls along behind her, though the dark expressions became shy smiles when Marco got close.

Someone laid on their horn behind him, making him jump in shock. He realized belatedly that he’d been sitting there, staring like some kind of creeper, and when he chanced a look back towards the building it was to find Marco watching him, head cocked to the side. 

Jean didn’t waste any more time pulling away from the sidewalk and out of the lot, blush making his face hot. 

\---

When his mother asked him to take Charlotte to class the next Saturday he decided to go in with her, purely for the sake of getting on her nerves. She whined, pouted, and stomped across the parking lot, grumbling non-stop about what a terrible brother he was. He followed her, smirking in delight until they were stepped onto the sidewalk. 

Marco was out front again but he was busy talking to someone so he only raised a hand in greeting as they went past. Jean told himself not to feel disappointed. He was here to bug Charlotte not ogle her assistant teacher or...whatever it was he was. 

Charlotte gave him a quick tour, which was actually dragging him down a long hallway covered in construction paper posters, framed photos and award ribbons, and boasting a large trophy case on one side. The other side of the hallway was lined with doors and when Jean managed to peek through the open doors he saw large open areas, some full of floor mats, one with a large trampoline and a few other items, and a few with a bunch of equipment he couldn’t identify. 

She shooed him up a flight of stairs, informing him she’d be doing ‘Tramp Work’, and when he got up there he found it was a large room with one wall made entirely of glass. There were a lot of people up there, mostly what looked like parents, crowded around the windows in small clumps, talking excitedly. 

He wandered past until he found the window overlooking the trampoline room. A few minutes later Charlotte walked in with a group of kids around her age, trailed by Marco, a girl with long dark hair fixed in a severe looking ponytail, and a tiny furious looking man. 

Jean watched, more interested than he’d expected to be, as Charlotte was lead through flips and twists and tumbles. The tiny man lead things, waving his arms, pointing, and doing what looked like a lot of yelling, and Marco or the girl would hop up to demonstrate on occasion. 

After about ninety minutes everyone stopped what they were doing and the kids all clumped together then followed the short man out of the room. The other people watching with Jean moved as well, heading to a different window as if following some kind of cue. 

Marco and the girl stayed behind and Jean found himself staying as well, peering down at them curiously. The girl made a gesture and Marco laughed then nodded. He pushed down his sweatpants, revealing tight black shorts, and yanked off his sweatshirt to show off a skin tight tank top. 

Marco put his hands on the edge of the trampoline and levered himself up; the muscles in his arms flexed as he put weight on them. He hopped a few times and Jean found his gaze drawn to his legs they were long and well built, muscles shifting and bulging with each bounce, and his thighs were thick and

Jean turned away abruptly. 

That was more than enough of that. 

Looking like that had to be illegal. 

Should have been, at least. 

Jean hurried down to where the people he’d been standing with before were and looked down into the section of gym they were looking at. Charlotte and the other kids were on the mats, stretching while the short man walked around them, gesturing. 

Much safer. 

\---

“Hey mom?”

Jean’s mother hummed softly in acknowledgement but didn’t look up from where she was stirring together the ingredients for brownies.

Jean hesitated for a moment, looking out the corner of his eye to where his sister was tapping away on the laptop, seemingly oblivious. Once he was sure she wasn’t listening he cleared his throat then leaned onto the counter. 

“So that guy who helps out at Charlotte’s class? Marco?”

“He’s a very nice young man isn’t he? I think some of the mom’s show up just for him.” She winked at him and then, when he just stared back blankly, waggled her eyebrows. He grimaced.

“You’re gross.” 

She scoffed. “I didn’t say that’s why I show up. He’s your age after all, much too young for me. Give me some credit. So. What about him?”

“Nevermind.” He pushed away from the counter; he hadn't been too sure what he was going to say anyway and he was far less inclined to say anything now. She shrugged and reached for the bag of pecans. “If you want I can take Charlotte again on Saturday and...you know, whatever other day it is she goes. So you can have some times to yourself.”

And also because it bothered Charlotte so much and not at all for any other reasons

Her brow furrowed and then she reached for him, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

He squirmed away, glaring at her. Her laughter followed him out of the kitchen. He walked past the table and spared a look for his sister, a shock going through him when he found that she was staring right at him, chin resting in one of her hands. 

“What?” 

She sneered at him then made a show of turning her attention to the computer. 

Brat. 

\---

A month passed with him shuttling Charlotte back and forth and watching her practices and totally not checking out Marco. He managed to get through seven classes without talking to the dark haired teen, always timing things so he’d be talking to one of the parents. It wasn’t hard to manage because, as it turned out, it did seem like a lot of the moms and a few of the dads were after his attention and kept him busy. 

Charlotte seemed increasingly irritated at him in spite of the fact he’d only told embarrassing stories to the kids in her class twice and had taken her and two of her friends out to ice cream a few times. He would have thought she’d at least accepted he wasn’t trying to ruin her entire life (much) but instead she got huffy each and every time her classes were over and he hustled her to the car or made her make a wide circle around Marco on the way to the parking lot. 

The day of the eighth class things went differently. Marco was standing there, talking to the woman with twins that Jean had come to realize was the other teen’s biggest fan. The woman was laughing at something loudly and had a hand on Marco’s elbow; her daughters looked vaguely uncomfortable. 

He expected to just slide right past them, per usual, but Charlotte stopped right next to them. 

Jean’s heart stopped. He couldn’t breathe. 

He probably died. 

Marco smile was smaller and tight around the corners than it usually was and, when he spotted Charlotte, something like relief flashed in his eyes. He said something to the woman then turned slightly, giving her his back, and waved. The woman huffed then made a gesture for her girls and headed inside, stomping almost as hard as Charlotte had been a moment ago.

“Hey Charlotte. You ready for trampoline work today?” 

She nodded so hard she was practically bouncing. “Yeah. I’m gonna get that front somersault from a drop today for sure.” 

“I can’t wait.” He looked genuinely pleased. Then his gaze flicked up to Jean. “Hi. Your Charlotte’s brother, right? She talks about you.” 

“Uh. Yeah.” Jean muttered, looking down, brain already working through all manner of horrifying things Charlotte might have said about him and the ways he would take his revenge. He looked down at her and she just sniffed and pushed her hair back over her shoulder while raising her eyebrows challengingly. Brat. “I’m Jean.” 

Yes. Very smooth. This was going well. Awesome, even.

“Nice to meet you Jean. I’m Marco. I’ve noticed you bring Charlotte and watching us from uptop but I’m always too busy to talk, unfortunately.”

Noticed him? 

Wait, noticed him watching them? 

Oh no. 

Jean’s eyes widened as Marco held out a hand to him. He stared at it, feeling stupid for a moment, then reached out to take it. Marco’s hand was warm and his grip was strong; Jean looked down at their linked hands. Marco’s hand was just a bit bigger than his own with long fingers, a few of them oddly crooked, and rough palms; there were thick raised patches of skin all along the base of his fingers. 

He looked back up to find Marco staring at him, a ghost of a smile on his lips, and swallowed. His heart was beating hard, so hard he was sure everyone could hear it. 

Had he asked him a question?

Right!

“Oh. Right. Hi!” He practically shouted at the end and then cringed internally. What was he doing? “Nice to meet you too. And. Yes?” 

Marco smiled broadly, brown eyes bright, and Jean’s stomach did something funny. 

Charlotte sighed loudly and he started to look at her then realized that, oh fuck, he was still holding Marco’s hand. He dropped it as if it was on fire and jumped back.

“S-sorry. I...we should go inside.” So that he could go into the bathroom and drown himself in a sink or something. That sounded like a fantastic idea. 

Charlotte shifted on her feet, widening her stance and squaring her shoulders. “No.” 

“No?” Jean repeated, too shocked to do anything else. Marco laughed quietly and it was probably the nicest sound Jean had ever heard and how absolutely unfair was that? Where had this guy even come from? 

“Not until you tell Marco that you think he’s hot and the only reason you come here is so you can watch him.” 

Jean made a noise that was entirely too close to a squeak for comfort. “What?!” 

The blank expression she shot him was alarmingly familiar as the face he liked to make when his friends were being idiots. He chanced another look at Marco who was standing with his hands clasped behind his back and watching them, still smiling

“That’s not true.” Jean blurted out.

Charlotte made a disgusted noise. Jean wanted to grab her and shake her; what was she trying to do to him? Was this revenge for the stories? Because he felt like she was really escalating things way more than was necessary. 

Marco blinked once. “No?” 

“No.” Jean said, hoping he looked like he meant it and wasn’t lying through his teeth. Marco nodded slowly, smile diming some. Jean’s heart stuttered as the part of his brain that was supposed to control his mouth gave up and left the conversation, leaving him to fend for himself.  “I. Is that okay?” 

Marco shrugged, looked down at Charlotte and then back at Jean. “I have to stay after Charlotte’s class to clean up and wipe down with Levi and Mikasa but after, if you don’t have anywhere to be, I thought you might like to get ice cream with me? There’s a place right down the road; I walk sometimes. Charlotte said you...uh, like ice cream.” 

Jean opened his mouth but nothing came out so he shut it with a click. 

What was going on? How was this happening? 

Did this guy even know what he looked like? Because Jean did, with those killer arms and thighs that just didn’t make any sense. The only thing that made less sense was that Jean was thinking about it and not agreeing already. 

“Yes! I’d love to ice cream. Yes. Today. Absolutely.” 

Marco laughed again but there was no mockery in it. Jean’s stomach flipped again and he looked away; Marco’s entire face lit up when he laughed. “Okay, great.” 

“Great.” Jean was getting very good at repeating things.

Charlotte took him by the wrist and dragged him away, probably saving him from saying something that would make Marco change his mind. 

“Finally.” Charlotte said once they were out of earshot. “I hope this means you’ll stop getting all gross and googly eyed after my classes.”

“Shut up. I do not.” 

Did he? 

She snorted and bumped him with her shoulder. He tried for a glare in return but a huge smile was already threatening to split his face. 

Okay, he probably did. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a great prompt and I had a ton of fun with it. Awkward dork Jean is love.


End file.
